Page 30 of So Wrong It's Right

I hear the smack on my ass more than I feel it. It’s so shocking. All the blood leaves my face. Nobody has ever done that to me before. I’m not sure how I should feel about it.

“Do you know what happens to brats?” he murmurs directly into my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive lobe. I shudder with pleasure. Without waiting for a response, he delivers another.

That one stings more than the first. A low moan escapes from my lips, but I can’t tell if it’s from pain or pleasure. I settle on a mix of both.

“Are you still feeling bratty?”

“Again. Duh, yes.”

“Bad girl,” he growls in my ear before another jolting smack. I let out another moan as I feel the moisture seep from between my legs. “So pink. So pretty.”

I whimper. I want more. What is wrong with me? Each smack of his hand gets just a bit harder until both my cheeks are left with a pleasant dull ache. He alternates between spanking and soothing with gentle caresses, keeping me off balance. My breaths come in hard gasps, but damned if I don’t hold on to the counter just like he told me to. My body is quivering all over and I want to touch him so badly, but I don’t want him to stop either.

He eases me back on my feet and turns me to face him. He trails hot kisses over my breasts, down my stomach, moaning as he goes lower and lower until he’s on his knees in front of me. He uses his shoulders to spread my legs wide.

“Keep your eyes on me, Stella. I want to see those beautiful blue eyes when you come in my mouth.”

My Goddess. Christopher is full of demanding surprises. Liquid heat courses through my veins. Guess what else Devon never did? I shudder in pure anticipation of what is to come. He lifts his amused gaze to mine, a sinfully sexy smirk playing across his lips. I watch, fascinated, as his mouth slowly lowers to my damp folds, his eyes trained on mine the entire time. He begins with gentle flicks, teasing one lip, then the other, never delving between them to where I need him most. Next come long, languid licks, twirling around my clit, but never on it.

He reaches up and takes my hand in his, linking our fingers, then slowly flicks the tip of his tongue against my clit, kissing it sensually using his tongue and lips.

The sweetness of holding hands is overwhelming, but the pleasure is nearly unbearable. And then it gets even worse as he thumbs my clit and brings his tongue down, thrusting that naughty tongue inside me while he plays my clit like it is an instrument made for him. It's too much...the sensations are overwhelming, but it’s his eyes that are undoing me. Watching them grow darker, filled with lust and desire. I can’t take it and let go with a silent scream.

Look at that. He finally got me to shut up.

He holds me through the aftershocks and then I’m back on my kitchen counter. “I want to see that pretty ass again.”

I get my arm out from under me to open my junk drawer where I have a gazillion condoms. Maybe more than a gazillion.

He pauses, and I know he’s taking in the strange contents of the kitchen drawer. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“When we thought I might be in charge of the bachelorette party, Perry ordered these for gift bags.” Now I have a case of cutely packaged condoms in my kitchen drawer. “They’re flavored.”

“Good enough for me,” he says.

He grips my hips tightly in his warm hands and pauses before one good thrust, filling me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I thought. I feel like he just split me in two. I squeeze my eyelids shut as tears sting my eyes. He holds still while I get acclimated to his size, then retreats and plunges again, sheathing himself completely inside me. He gives my neck a slow lick and firm bite while pumping inside me, sucking at that spot just beneath my ear. Shocks of electricity run along my veins, causing me to shudder and gasp uncontrollably underneath him. It’s not sweet or gentle or even comfortable being fucked against my kitchen counter. But it’s perfect.

Our bodies are slapping together loudly as he begins chanting my name. I feel my walls tighten and I don’t know where I am, but it’s not on this earthly plane. There are fireworks under my skin, and every nerve is blossoming with light.

Lightning.

He pulls my hair and we slap together harder. His manners, his control, are long gone. I love it. I love the way he clutches me like it’s the only way he won’t fall off the planet. I love the way he growls and calls me names and says words I didn’t think a guy like him would know.

“You're so fucking tight and wet for me... I want to feel your sweet pussy milk my cock of every last drop. Come for me.”

He strums my clit when he tells me to come and I do. On command. Wow.

And when he comes, he says my name like a prayer.

We’re breathing hard and I think I’m going to have bruises from the edge of the counter. Christopher rests his head between my shoulder blades. “I see stars, Stella. Do you see stars?”

“Yes,” I whisper. I feel awkwardly vulnerable. Like if I turn, if he looks at my face, he’ll see through me. See more than I want to show him. My muddled, fuzzy feelings. The tenderness growing warmer inside my ribcage. Like he can unzip my skin to bare my untried heart to him.

No, I can’t show him that.

He kisses the spot where he’d just laid his head and pulls back, pulls out of me. He’s pulling up clothes, zipping.

“Stella?”

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